The Duel of Revenge
by Allycat87
Summary: This is something I wrote for the Count Of Monte Cristo. It's how I think Fernand should have found out about Edmond


         The Count of Monte Cristo entered the salon where his valet had informed him that the Count de Morcerf was waiting for him.

         "I heard you had a meeting with my son this morning Count," stated Morcerf coldly.

         "Indeed.  You must have also heard that we did not fight as was expected.  In fact, neither of us even fired a shot." replied the Count with an odd mixture of both bitterness and hatred in his voice.

         "Yes, and as for that my son is a coward, but that is not what I came here to tell you." Morcerf hesitated as though having doubts on what he was about to say next.  "I came here to inform you that I consider you a mortal enemy; that I despise you and feel that I have known and hated you my whole life,"  replied Morcerf with wild fire dancing in his eyes, each word steadily increasing in volume.  "You shamed my family and unleashed the horrible secret that I have kept buried deep inside the depths of my soul, and for that you deserve to die!" roared Morcerf.

         "Are you challenging me to a duel, Morcerf?" asked the Count with no sign of surprise in his voice, almost as though he had expected this to happen.

         In response, Morcerf slowly unsheathed his sword.  Monte Cristo repeated this action and said with hatred, "You say you have known me your whole life.  Well, perhaps you have."  With these words he twirled his sword threateningly in front of Morcerf's face.

         "Then who the hell are you… you… you scoundrel!" 

         "I wish to tell you that only when you are near death, with my sword plunged into your chest!" 

         Morcerf paled at these words but was able to regain some confidence.  "So be it then!" spat Morcerf.  "There will be no need for seconds."

         "Yes," agreed the Count, "I believe we have each fought enough duels to know the rules and have it remain honorable."  He spoke with calmness, even though he was about to fight for his life.

         "Alright then, on the count of three we will begin, and it will not end until one of us is lying dead on your floor.  One… Two… Three!" cried Morcerf.

         The swords clanged against each other as each gentleman made their first move.  Morcerf pulled back and struck at the Count again.  This move was easily blocked by the Count, as well as the next move and the one after that.

         As Morcerf tired, he finally realized what the Count was doing.  "He's not striking back but only blocking my moves." thought Morcerf to himself.  "He's trying to wear me out so he'll have the advantage." 

         Morcerf became so preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn't even see the Count's sword swing down hard, out of nowhere, and knock his own out of his hands.  Morcerf quickly snapped back into attention just in time to see his sword smack against the wall and land on the floor with a clatter.  Morcerf, overcome with shock, sank to his knees.

         "Well, well, well, it looks as if I've won." stated the Count, trying to cover up the amusement in his voice.  "But you said yourself that the duel would not end until one of us was dead, so it looks as if though I will have to kill you."  He kicked out his foot and knocked Morcerf onto his back.

         "At least let me know the name of the man who is about to take my life!" cried Morcerf.

         "As I've told you before," the Count replied while he rested his sword against Morcerf's neck, "I wish to tell you that just before you die.  The last words you will ever hear will be the whisper of my name.  Only then will my vengeance on you and your family be complete."

         "Vengeance!" cried Morcerf.  "Vengeance, what could I have done to deserve your vengeance?"

         "When you hear my name, you will remember, and you will know," replied the Count.  He brought his sword upwards preparing to drive it through his enemy's heart.  "Oh God please forgive me!" he whispered.

         "Edmond!"

         The Count dropped his sword and whipped around to see Mercedes running into the room.

         "Edmond!" she cried again.  "Are you trying to condemn me to a life of lonliness and despair?" she asked desperately.  "First you tried to kill my son and now my husband, are you going to come after me too?"

         "Edmond!" shouted Morcerf.  "Edmond Dantes!"  Whatever color was left in Morcerf's face quickly drained from it.  "You're supposed to be dead!"

         "Edmond Dantes is dead." stated the Count quietly as he spoke for the first time since he had been interrupted.  "In a way you could say that you killed him, Fernand."  He spat the name as though it were poison on his tongue.  "He died in his cell in the Château D'if and I, the Count of Monte Cristo, Sinbad the Sailor, Lord Wilmore, Abbe Busoni, I have a lot of aliases, came to rest in his corpse.  I am now a man whose heart is filled with nothing but hatred and whose mind thinks nothing but the thought of vengeance, which I will have on the Morcerf family by the end of the night!"

         "Edmond!" cried Mercedes.  "Show mercy!"

         "I will not show mercy where it does not belong, Mercedes!" roared the Count.  "If anyone deserves the wrath of vengeance, it's your wretched husband and a few of his wretched friends!  They took away all the love and happiness that I have ever known!  For fourteen years, fourteen long and miserable years I suffered as I wasted away my life rotting away in a dank and miserable cell!  Then, finally, I escaped only to find out that your husband had caused my father to die of hunger!  And you, he made you so desperate and lonely that you felt you had to take his hand in marriage!  This man deserves to die!"

         Mercedes knew the Count was right.  She turned away to hide her emotion, but she could not stifle the small sobs escaping from her throat.

         The Count took notice of these actions, but showed no sign that he had.  He picked up the sword, took a deep breath, and slowly raised the sword upwards again.  His calm eyes met those of Fernand's, which were wide with terror.  Mercedes' sobs became louder as the seconds slowly ticked by.  The Count whispered, "Goodbye Fernand Mondego."  Then, without warning, the count struck down his sword with tremendous force and plunged it into the depths of his enemy's heart.  Fernand was dead instantly.

         Mercedes let a cry escape her mouth as she rushed to her husband's side.

         The Count put down his sword and slowly began to walk out of the room.  "Two." he said out loud as he closed the door concealing the dead corpse of his enemy and his wife weeping by his side.


End file.
